In the Right Order
by AprylHiggins
Summary: The Doctor meets and affects the life of a girl, but they don't always meet in the right order. Will feature the 8th, 4th, 1st, 9th, 10th, and 11th Doctors as well as Romana, K-9, Rose, and Jack with mentions of Susan, Rory, and Amy.
1. December 31st, 1999 to January 2nd, 2000

**December 31****st****, 1999 – January 2****nd****, 2000**

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* * *

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Rachel Nicole Smith was nearly six years old on New Year's Eve 1999. As the rest of the world counted down to the dawn of the new millennium, Rachel was asleep in her bed. Her mother kissed her forehead, whispered something in Rachel's ear, and was gone before midnight.

When she woke up the next morning, Rachel celebrated the start of a new millennium by rolling out of bed, walking out to the small kitchen with her blanket wrapped firmly around her shoulders like a cape, and fixing herself a bowl of cereal.

"Mom!" She yelled, as she removed a nearly empty carton from the refrigerator. "I'm using the rest of the milk!" When her mother didn't answer, Rachel walked over to her mother's room and opened the door a crack. "Mom?"

There was no one there. Not entirely surprising.

Rachel shrugged to herself and went straight back to the kitchen, finished fixing herself cereal, and then turned on the TV. She always liked when her mom stayed out all night because she could watch cartoons all morning long without any interruptions. Her favorite was Spongebob.

Soon the morning was over. At nearly one in the afternoon, Rachel needed to fix herself some lunch. Still, she wasn't concerned. Her mother had been gone through the afternoon a few times after particularly wild nights. Those were the nights when she sometimes brought home boyfriends. She liked when her mom had boyfriends. They bought her things. So, Rachel fixed herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and played the Nintendo 64 that her mum's last boyfriend had bought for her. Her favorite game was Zelda.

Rachel started to get worried when her mother was still gone when bedtime rolled around. It was very usual for her mother to be gone two nights in a row. She hadn't changed out of her pajamas all day, so when it was eight fifty-five, all she had to do was brush her teeth and tuck herself in.

* * *

Several miles away, a young woman, probably in her late twenties or early thirties was answering telephone calls. Most of them were prank calls, or simple problems like rowdy neighbors, but that was to be expected for an emergency services operator.

"Hello. What seems to be the problem?" She intoned to the next caller as she had for the previous fifty callers.

"Yes. Hello. Hmm. I don't really have a problem myself, but I know I'm supposed to call you." The voice on the other end of the telephone was a man's. He didn't seem very old. In fact, judging on voice alone, he was a rather attractive man, if a bit absent-minded. The operator instantly became much more chipper.

"And what were you supposed to call about?"

"Now see, that's the problem. It's been quite a few years since I was told to call you, and I can't quite seem to remember. I know it had something to do with a little girl. I met her at a playground see, but she'd be much younger now. When I found myself on New Year's Eve of the new millennium, I realized that it was me that was supposed to call you, but I can't quite remember what about."

"Still a bit hung-over from the holiday, then? Did you have an eventful New Year?"

"You could say that yes. Met an old friend and made some new ones. But what was I supposed to tell you… Oh yes! There's a little girl named Rachel Smith and her mother's gone missing. She's at her house right now, ah, let me see, it had the name of a food in it… something from Christmas… Ham! Lewisham! I knew I'd remember eventually! So if you could send some social worker people over there to take care of her, I'm sure she would very much appreciate it."

"Of course. Now if I could just get your name?"

"I'm called the Doctor. Make sure you spell it right. D-O-C-T-O-R."

"And that was Doctor... who?"

"Exactly. Bye then!"

The phone line went dead. The woman nearly didn't act on the tip, convinced that the man must have been inebriated, but she went ahead and submitted a report anyway.

* * *

The next morning, Rachel woke up to a knock at the door. Usually she would let her mom get the door, but since she was the only one there, Rachel grabbed her blanket and wrapped it around herself, then went to answer the door.

"Rachel Smith?" The woman at the door looked like a nice lady. She had a very nice smile.

"Yes?"

"I'm from social services. We were told that your mother had gone missing. May I come in?"


	2. April 23rd, 2002

**April 23****rd****, 2002**

Rachel Nicole Smith spent the next two years in foster care. It wasn't nearly as bad as everyone said it would be. She was placed with a nice family, they were spread a bit thin with four foster kids and two biological kids, but they were nice enough. The kids accepted Rachel, which was nice, but she could never quite accept that she was in the same boat as they were.

"One day," she used to tell Marcus, her foster brother, "my mum's going to come back when she's found a 'keeper' and we're all going to move back to our flat in Lewisham."

He would listen politely and not promptly remind Rachel that her mum wouldn't know where to find her even if she did want to be a family again. It was primarily because in his heart, he held the same sort of wish. "My dad's in lock-up right now," he would say, "but he writes me every week. He says that he might get out on good behavior in a few years, to be patient, and a good boy."

Marcus and Rachel had this same conversation nearly once a week as they walked home from school together. On April 23rd, Rachel introduced a new factor into their conversation. "If my mum comes back before your dad gets out, you can come live with us! I'm sure she won't mind. She'd love you!"

"Really?" He grinned. Rachel nodded enthusiastically, so he continued. "Well, if my dad gets out before your mum gets back, you can live with us!" Marcus turned to see Rachel's reaction, but she wasn't beside him anymore. She'd stopped in front of an alley and was staring into it intently. He walked back to her, asking, "What's up?"

"That's never been here before, has it?" She pointed at a blue box with the words "police public call box" illuminated on the top, sitting innocently in the center of the small, dark alley.

"Not that I know of." Marcus shrugged. "Someone must have moved it over here. For storage, or something."

"But what _is_ it?" Rachel took a couple steps toward it, but Marcus grabbed her arm.

"Don't!" He hissed, "We could get in trouble!"

"Why would we get in trouble?" Rachel pulled her arm away, "It's just sitting here."

"But…" Marcus started as Rachel walked right up to the strange blue box and put a hand on the wood.

"It's warm," she giggled. "It feels so weird! Come on, Marcus, feel this!"

Reluctantly, Marcus slipped over to the box, holding out one finger and poking it. "Yeah, it feels weird, can we go now?"

"You can go, but I'm staying here." Rachel rolled her eyes at him, leaning in toward the box and putting an ear against the warm wood. "I think it's humming. There must be something inside!"

Marcus took a few steps away from the box, shifting from one foot to the next, looking around at each noise, as if some big policeman was going to jump out of the shadows and demand to know what he was doing within a few meters of something with the word "police" on it. After a few minutes of this paranoia, he started hearing voices approaching. A man and a woman. "Someone's coming," he whined at Rachel, "please can we go now?"

"You go, if you're so scared."

"O-okay. See you back at the house, 'kay?"

"Yeah, sure. See you there."

Rachel didn't even look at Marcus as he bolted from the alley. She rolled her eyes. The big baby, the people were probably going to pass right by the weird blue box.

They didn't. Rachel jumped away from the box when a man said, "Excuse me, dear girl, but you seem to be in my way."

"Uh, sorry, uh…" She had planned on saying sir, but she caught sight of the scarf trailing along the ground, her eyes slowly moved up to reveal that the scarf went all the way up, around his neck – twice! – and then trailed right back down nearly to his knees on the other end. She also couldn't help but notice a rather daft hat perching atop the mass of auburn curls.

"You have a very long scarf." Rachel blurted out.

"Affirmative," stated a small metal dog that Rachel hadn't noticed. Another thing that she hadn't noticed was a rather irritated looking school-girl standing behind the man with the long scarf, her arms crossed.

"Doctor? You know we don't have much time." She said.

"Ah, yes, of course." He flashed Rachel a toothy grin. "Excuse me, but we must be off. Jelly baby?"

Rachel shook her head, mutely. She stumbled aside as the man, woman, and dog all went inside the box. She tried to sneak a peek inside, but the door shut too quickly.

Rachel turned to go, but stopped when the man with the long scarf popped his head out of the door. "Oh, and little girl? You're going to like this bit."

For the first time in her life, she heard the musical whooshing sound half-way between a giant dragon's breathing and a key sliding across piano strings. She whipped her head around for the source of the whooshing, but stopped as an unearthly wind blew her hair into her face and the light on the top of the phone box flashed on and off. Flinging her hair out of her face, she stared in wonder as the box slowly faded from existence until there was nothing left. That moment was one that she would never forget.


	3. October 15th, 2004

**October 15****th****, 2004**

Rachel swung from one monkey bar to the next, her mates cheering her on. She reached the end and disembarked, dropping the ground with a thump and grinning. She turned to a small dark-haired boy beside her, "You give it a go, Marcus!"

The smile died on her face as she spotted the old man. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't honestly remember ever seeing him before. Silver haired and dressed in a formal suit, he sat on a park bench, his head in his hands. Rachel hoped that he wasn't crying.

None of the other kids seemed notice him, and even the various mothers scattered around the playground seemed to be unaware of his presence. Once Marcus was up on the monkey bars, swinging from one to the next, and the other children were busy cheering him on, Rachel slipped away and walked over to the old man.

"What's the matter?" She asked. "Are you okay?"

The man was startled out of his reverie. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I asked 'what's the matter.'" Rachel repeated.

"That's quite an impertinent question to be asking one so much older that you are." He answered brusquely.

Rachel crinkled her nose and scowled. "You looked sad. I just want to help!"

The old man softened, chuckling. "I do not think that you can help me, child, however much I appreciate the sentiment."

"Try me! It will probably help just to talk about it." Rachel sat next to him on the bench, folding her hands and assuming the role of psychologist. "That is what they always say, you should talk to somebody."

"My granddaughter and I parted ways just recently. She fell in love with a young man and I had to let her go. She needed… she needed so much more than I could give her. She needed a home, a place and time to claim as her own. And that's the exact thing that I could never provide."

"Then it sounds like you did the right thing."

"Oh, I have no doubts about that. I would never have left her had I not been absolutely sure that she needed to stay exactly where she was," he sighed, glancing at the playground. Marcus had finished with the monkey bars, and was cheering on yet another child. "But I never planned for a future when the two of us weren't together. And being here, in this place, makes me think of how she was when she was very small. Always asking questions; 'what's this, grandfather?' 'how does this work grandfather.' And the adventures we used to have. But the people you love most always leave you in the end." He turned back to Rachel, suddenly seeming to realize that he was confiding in a ten year old. "But look at me, prattling on to an absolute infant about love and loss! You would know nothing of such matters, of course. You're far too young. This… this is an old man's burden."

"My mum left me when I was six." Rachel stated the fact as if it were a mathematical equation, unavoidable and unemotional.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's really all right. She was doing what was best for me, and I know she'll come back for me one day, when I've grown up and can take care of myself." She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "the real mystery is that I have no idea who to thank. All they could tell me was that an anonymous caller reported my situation. I saw the transcript, and he said that he'd been told ages before when he was supposed to call and where I was, but my mum'd only left the day before! I hadn't even left the house!"

"Well, that is curious!" The old man's face seemed to light up at the prospect of a puzzle to solve. "Exactly what did he know?"

"He knew my name, that I lived in Lewisham, and that she'd left on New Year's."

"New Year's Day of which year?"

"The new millennium, the year 2000, whatever you want to call it. And he said that he'd just _found_ himself there."

"Found himself…" The light dimmed within his eyes as he understood the mystery. He nodded to himself, seeming nearly disappointed in the result. "Ah, well, I will have to make a note about this. I do hope you find him one day."

"Me too. I can't imagine how long I would have been all alone in that flat had he not called.

"Well, I should be off, then."

"Wait! Just – just promise me that you'll keep going. She wouldn't want you to mope about. You'll find new people and new adventures soon. I just know it!"

"Thank you…" He struggled to recall a name, but one was not forthcoming. "I'm sorry, but I never did catch your name."

"Rachel. My name's Rachel Smith."

"Thank you, Rachel Smith. I won't soon forget this. It's been very nice to meet you."

"Very nice to meet you as well, sir."

**A/N: That took me a lot longer than I'd hoped. But once the Christmas special's aired I'll be able to fill in a few holes and have this thing mostly finished! I'm planning on a once a week release rate with a total of six chapters and perhaps a sequel if all goes well. Thanks to all those who have been reading and commenting!  
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	4. September 12th, 2006

**September 12****th****, 2006**

Rachel Smith lay in the grass, on top of her bike, taking a damage assessment. Her eye was nearly swelled shut, she was going to have bruises all across her chest and stomach, and her leg had made a sickening crack when the girls had thrown her into her bike there at the end. She was definitely banged up pretty good. Hannah Andrews may have been a spoiled little brat, but give her a few mates to hold Rachel down, and she could pack a good punch. To be fair, Rachel wasn't completely innocent.

When Hannah had taunted her, shouting, "Why don't you just admit that your mum is gone! She's never coming back, she never loved you, and everybody can see it but you!" Rachel didn't think, shouting the first thing she thought of, striking Hannah exactly in her most emotionally vulnerable area, "At least I believe my mum loves me. Yours doesn't even make it a secret how much she didn't want you, she just buys you things to make up for the fact that she doesn't –"

She didn't get the chance to finish her statement, because that was when Hannah's mates had pulled her off her bike and started hitting her. Rachel knew she shouldn't have said anything at all, no matter how much Hannah baited, but she tried not to think about that, opting instead to try to take in one breath after another.

She hoped her ribs weren't broken.

On the other side of a small hill nearby, a tall man in a pinstriped suit stumbled out of a big blue box. He'd nearly forgotten the instructions he'd received from Rose well over a year previous. He'd had the big ears then, and she didn't know the instructions were for him.

So here he was, at the lowest he'd been in so long. He'd lost her. First companion since the Time War, not to mention – well, it didn't matter anyway. He'd never see her again.

He shook his head slightly, running his fingers through his brown hair, making it stick up even more than it already was. There was something he was supposed to do here, but he couldn't remember quite what she'd said to do. He looked around, scanning the grass for something out of the ordinary.

He hoped that he wasn't on the wrong planet or something. That did happen sometimes. He walked over the hill to make sure that there wasn't any sort of non-Earth architecture, and that was when he spotted what he was supposed to do.

Rachel heard the sound from her childhood. That whooshing back and forth, half-way between a sleeping dragon and… something else. She struggled to remember how she'd described it the first time she'd heard it, four years ago. A key across piano strings, she suddenly recalled. She nearly laughed, but stifled it, as she was too afraid that laughing would hurt.

After a few moments, she heard footsteps running across the grass. Then a skinny man in a pinstriped suit knelt down in front of her. "Don't worry," he said, "you're going to be fine, just a bit banged up, that's all. Where's your house?" Rachel drew a breath to answer, but the man continued, "just need to get you in bed, then your mum can get you some ice to put on that eye and maybe some soup. Does a bit of chicken noodle soup sound good?" Rachel thought about saying yes, but didn't expect to get a word in edgewise. "I always did like chicken noodle soup, good stuff that. Nearly as good as tea. Maybe you'd like some tea? I got out of bit of a tricky spot with a bit of tea one time. Well, a couple times, well, one time in particular and a lot of other times that are slightly less memorable, at least at the moment. What was I asking you about then? Ah, yes! Where's your house?"

"Four blocks. That way. Red house on the left."

"Right. Just close your eyes and we'll be there in no time."

Rachel winced as he picked her up, but closed her eyes like he asked and tried to not think about how long it was going to take them to get to her house. She was very surprised when only a minute later she was being set down on some sort of metal grating. Her good eye flew open and whipped around wildly to see where she was. It seemed to be some sort of cave. There was coral everywhere, some sort of green and gold glowing coral. And the pinstriped man was glancing down at some sort of rock formation filled with trinkets from which emerged some sort of huge pillar of light stretching far above their heads.

"What… what is this place?"

"Just a dream," said the man in the pinstriped suit, "I reckon you'll forget it in the morning."

"Oh. But you're real. I saw you."

"Right you are."

"Why were you there, anyway? No one knew I was there. I figured I was a goner."

"Because my friend told me you'd be there."

"But how'd your friend know?"

"She said you told her."

"But I didn't tell anyway I was going that way! Not even Marcus!"

"Maybe you haven't told her yet. Things don't always happen to me in the right order."

"What do you mean, I haven't told her yet? Where is she?"

The man's face darkened and he turned away from Rachel, looking instead at the pillar of light."I lost her."

"Oh. I'm… I'm sorry."

He didn't look back at her when he replied with a curt, "yeah."

Both the man and the girl felt a sudden strong sense of déjà vu. The man seemed to remember the playful ignorance of a playground and a little girl with a shining smile that injected optimism into an old man's heart. The girl remembered a dusty old man with eyes that reflected a myriad of memories, too many for her young mind to fathom. So the girl said the same thing to the man in the pin-striped suit that she'd told the old man with the tired eyes. "You'll find new people and new adventures soon. I just… I just know you will. Don't give up."

The man's brow furrowed, looking down at her with mild surprise, suddenly understanding the familiarity of these words. "Rachel," he announced, "Rachel Smith."

"Yeah?"

"Never stop saying those things. The world will always try to steal that optimism away from you, but don't let them. Never let them take that away from you."

"I won't."

"Now close your eyes. You'll wake up in a bit."

She did wake up in her own bed much later, still very banged up. But she never believed that all of that was just a dream. There had simply been too many strange and unexplained things in her life already for her to dismiss the pinstriped man and his coral cave as a dream.


End file.
